Fantasy
by Schingiuire Vristalica
Summary: Even a slave can plot. Abraham calls them fantasies, Dracula calls it chess. There can only be a single winner.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Hellsing or any of its characters.

Existence in the Helsing house was much like playing a chess game. One had to always plan their movies far ahead of time, and never lose sight of their opponent. Commonly, Dracula found himself playing dual roles in the game, partly he was Abraham's pawn, and partly he was Abraham's opponent.

He liked to think of himself as a solid opponent, but one who was hidden behind the curtain. He was moving his own pieces from a corner of the board no one watched. Abraham believed he now controlled his former opponent, turned an enemy into a piece of his own to move about as he willed. However, Dracula was only playing a part, an act to put his target at ease while he moved his weapons over the board.

"You're planning something," Abraham announced one night as the vampire stepped into the library. The books had become a nest of his, a hide-away in this prison.

Dracula slid his hands into the pockets of the dark trousers he wore, head tilted back slightly as he observed the man sitting before the fire. Abraham was resting in the chair Dracula had become accustomed to settling into.

"I believe you normally call them 'fantasies,' Master," the vampire replied smoothly, lean form relaxed but not moving further into the room.

Abraham rested his wrists on the chair's arms, blue eyes moving from the fire to settle on the Count. Shades of red, orange, and yellow danced around elliptical pupils, giving the illusion of fire reflected in the creature's eyes. Abraham knew better. That fire was hell itself, a burning chaos collared and leashed to be held at bay, pointed like a gun and fired at his enemies before it would be holstered once more.

"Whatever scheme you are up to, this is your first and final warning. Put a stop to it. If you continue, and I catch you, things will not bode well for you, Vampire." Abraham gripped the arms of the chair, pushing himself to his feet. His eyes never left Dracula. "We both know I'll catch you. I've already proven that once. History will only repeat itself."

The vampire moved, striding several steps into the library, allowing the light of the fire to finally fall across his form. Black hair brushed along his shoulders, appearing disheveled, though the black button up shirt and slacks he wore were almost immaculate. Dark boots made no sound as he moved slowly across the floor, pausing before a bookshelf as Dracula observed the titles.

"Mistakes are only repeated by later generations. Those who live to remember the events do not allow them to happen again."

It was a veiled threat, but one Abraham recognized easily. He approached the vampire, eyes narrowing sharply. Dracula half turned, meeting his master's approach head on, though he remained in a relaxed pose. They stood not a foot apart, a silent acceptance of the challenge mutual between them.

Abraham curled his fist into the front of Dracula's shirt, pulling the creature down to his eye level. Dracula allowed it, leaning into Abraham's face, a sneer decorating his own lips allowing only the barest hint of shark teeth to be seen.

"I will catch you," the man whispered darkly.

"Dreams and fantasies," Dracula replied, his tone mocking Abraham.


	2. Chapter 2

**Note**: Nearly all of my chapter fictions are long, planned out works. It takes me a while to write new chapters because I obsess over the events and wording of everything. I questioned myself what would happen if I were to write a story that I didn't plan and just wrote small chapters without critiquing every word and its rhythm. This is the result. Fantasy is just supposed to be fun for me. It has no long term plot that I've planned, I'm just writing to see what will happen. In short, this is my attempt at not being serious about a story.

OoOoO

He could smell the trap like rot on the wind. So soon after Abraham's dramatic threats, the man had planned a trip across the island to visit a family with a sick child. Dracula stood at a window, focused on the carriage below where his master was packing a few bags. Abraham was leaving in the evening, at the time when Dracula normally awoke. It was engineered to taunt the vampire. Dracula could feel Abraham watching him, even as the carriage pulled away.

He was being baited, dared to try something while the master was away. The vampire leaned back from where he stood, watching as the heavy English horses drew his jailor into the night, leaving him to his own devices. Dracula turned on a heel, striding away from the window, ready to slide his next piece across the board.

Abraham would never leave him so blatantly, with no word or order to behave. He doubted there even was an ill child to visit. On the occasions Abraham did need to leave suddenly, he locked the vampire in a cell or dragged Dracula along for the ride.

"I see your rook," Dracula purred, stopping before Abraham's study doors. "Moved so solidly into place. There's more than one trap here. What other piece did you move, human?"

Resting a hand on the door's handle, Dracula pushed it open, though did not step into the room. He gazed through the doorway, elliptical pupils contracting as he focused on the oak desk, comfortable looking chair, various books and papers strewn about, and the fireplace which still burned.

Everything looked normal enough, but his instincts and experience still told him there was a trap here. Dracula crouched, lowering his lean form to rest on his ankles, a knee pressed to the floor to keep his balance. Draping a wrist on his thigh, he reached into the room to pinch the rug with two thin fingers. Flipping it back, a sneer spread over his features when the rune appeared.

Drawn into the floor with chalk and hidden beneath the rug, Abraham had drawn a devil's snare. It was similar to the same rune Abraham had used to bind the vampire's powers and seal Dracula to himself. This, however, would trap a demon within the circle until the chalk line was broken. If he had stepped into the room, Dracula would have found himself locked inside the circle until Abraham had returned.

"Found your rook," the vampire chuckled to himself, standing slowly. With careful steps, he moved into the room, wary to avoid the circle. "Now where is your hidden move?"

As he approached Abraham's desk, a static tingle ran over his skin and raised the hair along the back of his neck. Pausing, the vampire lifted his eyes, lips spreading into a sneer as he located a second snare, drawn over cloth and tacked to the ceiling over the man's desk.

Abraham had turned his office into a fortress, taking precaution to block Dracula from getting anywhere near anything vital.

"There's nothing here," the vampire chuckled to himself. "Working so hard to chase me away while making it appear as if you're guarding something."

Turning on a heel, Dracula slipped from the room, making sure to right the rug. Abraham would know he was there, the man always did. But Dracula found that all to be part of the game. Let the man think he could guess all the vampire's deceptions and tricks to distract from the real dangers.

Dracula was sure if he carried a full investigation of all Abraham's known information hiding places, he would stumble across many more devil's snares hidden about. This was the trick, that there was no trick. Abraham had planted a trip wire this night, wanting Dracula's paranoia to get the better of him.

"A false move," Dracula commented to himself, mounting the stairs as he made his way for the attic. "To have me looking one way while you were aiming in another."


End file.
